We’ve been tricking Cole into standing without support. He’ll be holding onto a finger and I’ll replace it with a cord or something that won’t help him at all. He stands for as long as it takes him to realize that he’s unsupported and then he falls. I’m always there to make sure he doesn’t get hurt, of course. But it’s pretty cute.

This morning started out nicely. He was bopping, clapping, and nodding while I was singing as I picked out his clothes for the day. It was the most heart-breakingly adorable thing.

Then started the battle of the wills.

Everything I say no to right now he has to test me on. No. Don’t touch the dog bowls. No. Don’t climb on the brick. No. Don’t climb over the side of the bed and land head-first. NO!

He’ll pull his hand away at first, but then he peeks out of the corner of his eye at me and reaches toward the forbidden item again. And again. And again. When I finally get tired of telling him no and pull him away, Oh! You should hear the wailing! His father and I are going to get what we deserve in this area. We are both very willful when it matters to us. Right now what matters to Cole is having the milk when he wants it and being able to hurt himself however he wishes. He’s already too damn smart for MY own good.

But then he has to be all squishy and delicious and make me love him so much. Stinkin’ brat.